


Fragile Things

by Redisaid



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Pets, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 21:04:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2887856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redisaid/pseuds/Redisaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Princess Bubblegum is expecting the usual call from her ex. The strained voice on the other end of the line tells her it's not quite that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragile Things

The letter N hung on her lips. Her tongue still buzzed against her palate. It was an automatic reaction, one that she had realized—right between the N and the O—was suddenly not at all appropriate. What was she supposed to think anyway? When one’s ex calls desperately, without a greeting even and just says “Can you come over? Now?”– what is one supposed to think?

She’d had this phone call before. She obeyed it without question. She rushed over and spent a hasty night that she regretted long before morning. That’s why she’d established this precedent. “It’s either on or off, Marceline. Not on one evening and then off three hours later.”

But this was not that call. A shuddering sob stopped her in the middle of her rejection. There had been tears before, certainly, and plenty of sniffling, but this was far more severe. “What’s wrong?” Bubblegum asked.

Another sob surged forward from the other end of the line, “My dog.”

She’d always wondered about that dog. Why, of all foul creatures that would be far more appropriate, would a vampire choose to have a poodle for a pet? Marceline had explained that she liked dogs. She didn't like how quickly their lives passed, but she liked them.

“Bonnie. Please don’t hang up. He’s sick. He won’t eat. He’s not old enough to die. At least I don’t think—I can’t remember exactly. Can you please just come here and look at him? Please?”

She could be cruel. She could tell her there’s a very wonderful vet not too far off. Dr. Princess would be more than happy to help and probably far more knowledgeable of canine physiology than she was. She thought about it. She was ready to say it—had a statement prepared in her head but could not get it out. 

“I’ll be right over,” was what came out instead.

It would be messy, but life is messy. Hopefully it would result in Marceline crying on her shoulder for a bit and the little poodle suffering only from a minor issue. Hopefully.

She hung up to a round of solemn thank yous. Bubblegum wanted to sigh and berate herself. She wanted to curse how much of a terrible idea this was and how little Schwabl probably wasn't all that sick. She couldn't, though. She found herself looking forward to that little pink house and the quiet little dog and—of course—Marceline, even if she was a sobbing mess. Even if this was just a trick to get her to come over again.

She couldn't help but feel relieved and obligated at the same time as she packed her things. After all, she had named the thing. The least she could do was give it a check up.

–

“This was what you wanted to show me?”

The pup squirmed in her arms—a ball of white curls that smelled vaguely of its own urine.

Marceline frowned. “What’s up with you? Don’t you like dogs?”

“I don’t…mind them,” Bubblegum replied. “I've manufactured dozens of candy hounds. Horehound hounds to be exact.”

“Well then why do you seem to be grossed out by the real thing? Look at him! He’s so cute! How can you not love that little face?” Marceline leaned over her and poked at the pup’s little black nose with a long finger.

He sneezed. Bubblegum couldn't help but smile at that. “Perhaps I’m just lacking in experience with the real thing.”

“We’ll have to fix that then,” Marceline said. She leaned further onto her, pressing herself up against Bubblegum’s back. “You know…I just got this little guy last night. He doesn't even have a name yet. Any suggestions?”

She had no idea where it came from. The little creature began squirming in her arms ever more violently and clearly wanted to be put down. Perhaps she was in the middle of another, more dignified German word or name when she said it. “Schwabl.” Bubblegum set the pup down and let him go back to sniffing his way around Marceline’s living room.

Marceline kissed her cheek and laughed. “You’re a real weirdo, Bonnie. Schwabl it is.”


End file.
